


Reconditioning

by overholt_eightyfive



Category: gonewildaudio - Fandom, r/gonewildaudio
Genre: 18+ ONLY, F/M, Smut, r/gonewildaudio - Freeform, script offer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28188879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overholt_eightyfive/pseuds/overholt_eightyfive
Summary: [Script Offer][M4F]  [fDom][Yandere Cuckqueen] [msub] [Mistress] [Good boy] [still a dirty little slut] [cheating] [office parties] [cunnilingus] [self cum-eating] [heels on dicks] [self-recorded confession] [dirty talk] [so much begging] [so much spitting] [self-degradation]
Kudos: 1





	Reconditioning

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I'm just gonna blame u/bklib for this one. I saw their script offer “Your Yandere Cuckqueen Roommate” and was so intrigued by the tag, “Yandere Cuckqueen” and this story just started to form in my head with alarming alacrity as I asked myself, “...waitwut.”
> 
> For good boys who yearn for hard-to-please Mistresses. For Mistresses who love to torment their fucktoys.
> 
> Performance Notes: The struggle is so real with this poor dude. Young-ish, but up there on the corporate ladder. Played by the rules his entire life. Straight-laced until this. Then, Mistress happened and he's going to be in shambles. And, she'll make him thank her for wrecking him.
> 
> As always, a fantasy for adults, by adults.

\---START---

(Off-mic:) It's.. it's recording? Ok. (Steels self. Breathes.) Ok.

This is... this is (insert name here). This is the fourth day.. of reconditioning. (Struggling) I am... recording this... of my own...free will. Of my own volition. 

(Whispers off-mic:) Please – I'm doing it. There's no need - 

(Back to mic, clearing throat.) Ok. Uh. Umm. I... am doing this... because... because... I want... I want to be... a good boy. (Swallows hard) I want to be a good boy. 

Mistress... will teach me. * Is * teaching me. 

(Hears something off mic. Whispers off-mic:) Please don't make me say that. Please – (Lets out a little yelp of pain. On-mic:) But first... she's... she's teaching me... how much of a dirty little slut that I am.

It...all started... the night of the office party. We all got drunk, see? I barely remember any of it. I just remember... waking up. On Steve's couch. And, uh... Mistress was on top of me. And, the other guys were laughing at how drunk I was. 

And one of them said, uh... said, “I bet... I bet you couldn't get a hard-on right now.”

I started to say... that... that my wife was at home. Waiting for me. And that... that who I now call... Mistress... wasn't interested, anyway. 

But,she... she, uh. She kissed my neck. I could feel the pull of her mouth as she left her lipstick on my skin. And, when she whispered... whispered that she could make me do... much more than that...

She asked me... how her breasts felt, against my body. If I liked the way... she was moving her hips against me. Told me... she'd slip her panties off in the bathroom and... shove them in my mouth...

If I was a good boy.

I'd never... I don't think I'd ever been that hard before in my life. I think I... I think I buckled against her, my pants were cutting into me so bad. And she just... laughed. And snuggled against me. 

It felt like I was being pinned. I certainly couldn't move, anyway... I was in such a state. So, I just... stayed. Still. I couldn't... I couldn't say anything. Other than... “sorry. I'm so sorry.”

Mistress... said I wasn't saying it to her. She said, I was saying it... to my wife.

Maybe I was. I remember... breathing in the scent of her hair, of her perfume. Trying to turn my face away. But, I couldn't. Her scent... lingered. Lingers. In my mind. 

(Off-mic:) ...what? Ok. (On-mic:) The, uh, first day... what turned out to be... the first day. Of reconditioning... was a couple of days later. When we were back at work. I had been avoiding her. You know. Obviously. I was hoping she had been too drunk to remember. I didn't want to make it awkward. I mean. For either of us. Obviously. But, it had also been... so highly inappropriate, you know, having been so...aroused. Against her.

I wanted to be... professional. So, I invited her into my office. Asked her to keep the door open. I didn't want... I didn't want there to be any hint of... impropriety, you know? (Clears throat) So... I sat down behind my desk and she sat down in front of it. 

I told her... that I felt like I owed her an apology. For getting so drunk the other night. That I have vague... uh... recollections... flashes, of the night... and that I might have been... in a state... that I otherwise would not have found myself in. And, that, while I could barely remember, on the off-chance that * she * did... that I offered a sincere and humble apology.

She smiled. And, it was the most terrifying and beautiful thing I've ever seen. She asked me if I wanted her to remind me of what she'd said. 

I think... I froze – I mean, I did. I did freeze. And, she leaned forward and whispered, “But, not today. Because I'm not wearing any panties today.”

I told her I was married. She told me to come out from behind my desk and tell her that. Louder. I had my hands pressed so hard against the desk. I was beginning to shake. She knew I couldn't. 

She knew... because she knew I was hard. She stood up and adjusted her suit jacket... and called me a dirty little slut. And, she left my office, closing the door behind her.

(Groaning) I... couldn't help myself. I'd never done anything like this before, but I just couldn't... I couldn't - 

I jerked off. Under the desk. Into a styrofoam cup. I came so fucking hard. 

(Moment of silence, then he gathers himself) Uh. I... I love my wife. I do. We have our... problems. What couple doesn't, you know? Uh. But, honesty is... 

(Searching, broken:) Honesty is... a bedrock. Of. Uh. Relationships. I was going to go home. And, tell her. I was. I almost did. I couldn't. Because... jerking off... to the thought of Mistress calling me a dirty slut... made me cum harder... than anything she ever did. 

Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. 

The...second day. Of reconditioning. Two weeks after that. I kept away from her. I tried, anyway. A glance, here or there. In the cafeteria. In the hallway, in passing. One day, I got to my office. A little... present, was on my desk. I mean, like... a gift box, you know. With a bow. And a note. 

The note was just signed with a lipstick imprint. Like the one I'd scrubbed from my neck. Inside of the box... a pair of panties. Used panties. They were still... damp. And warm.

(Falls silent a moment. Whispering.) I tasted them, ok? I put them to my face to breathe in her scent and I... I tasted them. I held them against my cock as I jerked off * again * and I came all over them, wiping my cum up with it and tossed them back in that box and I tossed the box in the trashcan and I just wanted to fucking * die. * What the fuck was that? What the fuck was I doing?

(Off-mic:) Why did you just call me “Shinji?” What's so funny – ok. Ok, sorry. Sorry. What... what happened later? Ok – (On-mic:) Later... much later. Late in the day. When most everyone was gone. I was working on a report – I swear, I really do my * job * in my office – I heard a knock on my door. And, I looked up. And, it was her. 

She didn't ask if she could come in. Didn't ask if I had a moment. Didn't ask if she could close my door. But, she did. She does what she wants. With me. 

No... coyness. No preamble. She just said she was swinging by before she left for home... and she wanted to see me stuff those panties in my mouth. Like a... a good boy. I told her that I didn't know what she was talking about. And that she was being... highly inappropriate. I told her to get out of my office and to... to never talk to me again. 

(Broken) She told me that... that it smelled like cum, in my office. That I better air it out before someone else comes along. And, she told me she wanted her panties back, then. She smirked. She smirked, because she * knew. * She just... * knew. * 

I pointed... to the trash can. Told her she could take them with her, on her way out. I tried to play it so cool. I really did. And, that was... the first time... I'd ever seen... Mistress... get angry. 

She... she ordered me. On my knees in front of her. And, I couldn't move at first. I wanted to say...so many things. Like... how, how * dare * she talk to me that way... and that this was... unacceptable. And wrong. And, that I could get her fired.

(Whispers) “Now,” she said. And, I was moving out of my chair. Finding myself... on my knees in front of her. Scared of her. Turned on by her, beyond... belief. Beyond reason.

And, that terrifying smile. Like... like looking directly at the sun. You shouldn't... but, when you do, it hurts to behold, but that blinding white light can be so...beautiful. She told me to open my mouth. I hesitated. I didn't know why I did, but... I did.

She * spat * in it. 

(Whispers) She told me... that's all I am. To her. And, I should... I should * thank * her. For the gift... of her spit. Jesus. (Quietly) ...I did. (Reacting to off-mic:) I DID. After that... she told me... to crawl on my hands and knees to the garbage bin. And take out the giftbox. And take out the panties. I tried to tell her that I couldn't do that, to not ask me to do it...

And, she grabbed my jaw. Yanked my face up. Her hands are... so strong. I felt like... like I was back on that couch. Pinned down. She told me she wasn't * asking * me to do anything. She was * telling * me. 

(Beat) So. I did. 

When I pulled the panties out, they were still... wet and sticky. With my cum. She laughed and laughed and laughed when she held them up in front me, with just two fingers. She told me... she told me she knew...how much of a desperate whore I was... but, even...that...surprised her. 

She told me to... (Desperately, off-mic:) Not this, Mistress, not this – I can't, please, not this – (Shuts up. Listens. Sighs. On-mic:) Ok. * Ok. * Uh... she told me... to. Umm. Beg. 

Beg...for her. To... uh...drop... her panties. In my mouth. If I wanted... to prove... that I was... a good boy. 

(Brokenly) I did, ok? I begged. I begged for it. And, yes, Mistress – yes, my cock was hard. She told me to open my mouth. And, I did. Without hesitation this time. She just...dropped them in. Told me... told me to stuff them in myself. She didn't... she didn't want to soil her hands... anymore than she had to..with my filthy...cum. 

I felt...I feel...so... it's a lot. You know? But, I did. And, she placed one hand on my shoulder to steady herself... and then... at first...gently... she... placed her foot... on my straining cock... and pressed. In. 

She called me a good boy...and, I came. Right in my pants. My moans... muffled around those disgusting panties in my mouth. And, she laughed again, and told me...that I couldn't be a good boy after all. Only dirty sluts cum without permission. She left me there, still panting and writhing. 

The next few weeks were a blur. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to think. Or what I wanted. Or who or what I was. Whatever... fucked-up desires she'd stirred in me... plagued me. I grew distant, withdrawn. My wife... she... well. Before this, we weren't having much of a sex life. And, I wasn't asking anymore... and she didn't seem...to care. So. There's... there's that. 

I used to jerk off... before Mistress. Before that time in my office. At home, I swear! And, I would start to think about her: the smell of her hair. The edge in her voice. The glint in her eye when we'd see each other in the office. I would start to...you know... and as I would get so close... her voice would echo in my head: “Only dirty sluts cum without permission.” I'm * not * a dirty slut. I mean... I don't want to be. 

(Off-mic:) I don't want to be – yes. Sorry. (On-mic:) But, I also thought... maybe... maybe she was done with me. Maybe... I... we... had gone too far. She'd barely said anything to me, after all. So, I was... so, I was thinking that that was the end of it. And, I could pretend it never happened. I put in an application for an office transfer. Somewhere, anywhere else. Maybe the downtown office. Maybe across the country. But, I knew: out of sight, out of mind.

(A moment, then:) The... the third day. Of reconditioning. Uh... night. Technically. Thursday night. I was at the end of my driveway, taking the garbage out. I had made some...some tentative plans with some friends at my usual dive bar. And, a car I'd never seen before pulls up. 

She flicked on the interior light, just so I could see it was her. She shut it off. Didn't say anything. She didn't have to. I walked over to the other side. I got in. She drove off. I was grateful we were driving. I didn't have to face her, directly. I could just...look out the windshield as she drove out of my neighborhood. 

I think... I asked her how she got my address. But, she told me... she told me she had other plans...for my mouth.. that didn't involve stupid questions. 

We pulled up to where...well, where you'd usually go if you were a teenager and looking to makeout. Or... a prostitute. With a John. She told me that, actually. 

That's... that's when she told me the rules. When we were at work, we would be discreet. Careful. She didn't want to ruin her job anymore than she wanted to ruin mine. But, when we weren't at work, she was Mistress. Only Mistress or “ma'am.” She'd teach me... she'd teach me to be * her * good boy. Even... even if I would still be nothing more... than a dirty little slut underneath it all.

I told her... I couldn't do that. I couldn't be what she said I was, wanted me to be. I wanted to be a good husband. I wanted to be... a good man. 

She had on... this loose fitting skirt. And, all she did... was turn in her seat. Spread her legs. And, lift the dress...above her waist. 

She told me... to tell her all of that... as I... as I ate her cunt. She grabbed my shirt... and, she pulled me down to her. (Almost sobbing) She tasted... so good.

And, when she had had enough of my tongue, of my lips...she pulled my face away and told me to open my mouth, wide. She told me, every time she spat in my mouth, to thank her for the gift of her spit. She didn't care to aim particularly well, but I did my best. I thanked her, I thanked her, I thanked her. 

She rubbed it all into my face, her spit and her juices dripping from me. And, I kept thanking her. I was so grateful, so unbelievably grateful. I told her I hadn't cum since the last time we'd been together, that I wanted to prove... to prove to Mistress... that I could be her good boy. 

I think... I think I surprised her, with that. She told me... to get back in my seat. To show her my cock. And, I moved so fast, I almost broke my belt buckle and it was just such a relief to have it out, finally, and to maybe, just maybe... maybe she'll touch it - 

I was so slick with pre-cum, I didn't need any spit, and I was already so on edge, just... the air in the car was thick with her scent and her... her beautiful pussy was still laid bare to me. I started to stroke fast – I was so desperate, desperate for release - 

Then... then she asked me... if this is what... a good husband does. How a good man acts. I froze. I didn't... I didn't know what to say. I didn't know... what to do.

She told me she didn't tell me to stop. She licked her lips. Pulled her... beautiful breasts from her halter top. Asked me... asked me if my wife...ever turned me on as much as she did. Asked me... if my wife..could ever make me do... the things... she was going to make me do...

I tried to tear my hand away from my cock, but she reached over and placed hers over mine. Told me to keep stroking. I begged for her to let me cum, to let me cum wherever she wanted me to... she took her hand from my cock and placed it on my throat. Ordered me... to cum... all over myself. She tightened her grip on me and I could see the glint in her eyes, even in that relative darkness and when she called me a dirty little slut again, and my breath was caught and ragged - 

I tried to scream as I came, like a lightning bolt ripping through my body and I strained so hard, shooting my cum all over my stomach and my chest, as she kept saying, over and over again, “Good boy. That's my good boy. Good boy.” 

She made me... clean her forearm, where some of my cum hit her. With my... with my mouth, yes. 

She dropped me off at a park near my house. Told me I could walk home covered in her spit and my cum. See how well I'd explain that to my wife. And, she drove off... laughing.

(Hollow little laugh) I... rolled around in the mud and the grass and the dirt. Made myself absolutely filthy before I got home. Just a prank, from the boys. You know. You know how it goes. 

(A moment. Then:) Uh. Now... here we are. Day four. Of reconditioning. We're... we're in my house.(Listens to something, then off-mic:) You're... you're fucking evil. You're so fucking evil. (Listens. Hurriedly, still off-mic:) No, no, please – I'm sorry. I'm sorry, * Mistress.* I * do * want this. Please, please, please – (On-mic, just as desperate) We're in my bedroom, ok? The one I share with my * wife. * With my * wife. * Who isn't here. Who won't be here for a week. Family gathering... I couldn't go to... because of work. 

That's...that's what I told her. (Pause) So... Mistress could... properly teach me. How to be her good boy. And, we're making this – * I * am making this. Because, Mistress wants it. Wants proof...of how much I want her. Need her. 

And, she'll play it for me, as a reminder, she says. When I need it. Because, she's going... she's going to do much worse things to me. Soon. 

She's going to make me beg for them. She's going to make me thank her for them. Because, I want to be... I want to be her good boy.

(Louder) I want to be Mistress' good boy!

\---END---


End file.
